S W E E T E R
by LeNkUisLIFE
Summary: "... because every time they meet, it is always sweeter than the last."
1. Author's Note

Guys, if there are grammatical errors in the story, please feel free to inform me, as I do not have the patience nor the time to check my works (I'm a slob). Actually, I'm pretty picky when reading something and I immediately notice the mistakes, but I'm completely careless when I write my own.

This i Y, or at least that's the plan, so it will be ten chapters, give or take a few. This will be pure fluff, and may or may not have an actual plot line! And also, this story is told from two point of views, so you'll probably get a bit confused, but oh well.

Other than that, I hope you like it and squeal at the adorable cuteness that is Lenku with me.

Lenkuxxx


	2. Chapter 1 M I K U

We first met on Christmas Eve. Even now, I can still imagine the coldness seeping into my toes becoming so numb until I could no longer feel it. Goosebumps raised on my arms and I mentally scolded myself for forgetting to bring a jacket or a scarf. But I remembered not dwelling on it for long, I think I was busy that day, with what, I don't know, but the sense of urgency and alarm came rushing back to me and I walked on the streets, suddenly grateful for the absence of the usual crowd.

I could almost imagine them right now. The bakery owner with his usual cheery smile is sitting with his family, finally able to spend time with them just for this magical night. The girl who always sits across from me on the train is having a sleep-over with her friends, giggling and gossiping about things my world used to revolve in. In this solemn midnight, nobody wanted to be lonely.

And I'm no exception, except I can't.

Muttering a curse under my breath, I glared at the traffic light in impatience, taking another look at my watch.

8:03

"Shit," I muttered and tears of frustration fell out of my eyes. I had always been like that, crying when I knew I was going to lose. Life is a game with no instruction manual, and I keep getting stuck at level one.

"Cussing on Christmas Eve is forbidden, you know," I whipped my head to the right, and there you were, rubbing your hands together for warmth, your teeth chattering, but still, you were smiling at me. You looked so happy that I immediately felt bad.

You looked at the other side of the road thoughtfully and I just lowered my gaze towards the ground. "My name's Lennon, but my friends call me Len."

The traffic light still hadn't turned green.

Not finding any excuses to distract you, I sighed and accepted your hand. It was warm, mine was cold. I cringed and let it go, with just the barest of touches. "I'm Miku. Nice to meet you, Lennon."

"I believe I've seen you somewhere. You work as a waitress at Georgiette's, right?" I nodded, wondering why I hadn't noticed you before, and an uncomfortable silence settled between us. It didn't bother me, I like the quietness and the peace it brings me. It makes me calm, but having taken a pity on your fidgeting self, I decided to speak to you.

"Your parent are fans of the Beatles?"

"Only my mom, actually. She makes me listen to Ticket To Ride and Hey Jude at least once a day," I laughed as your blue eyes twinkled in fondness and a little irritation. "Trust me, I know every lyrics to all of their songs. That's how obsessed she is. What about you? What's the origin behind your name?"

"It was nothing interesting. Unlike you, I don't have a fangirl as a mother, no offense."

I giggled quietly at the fake wounded look on your face and upon noticing that the light had finally changed, I walked forwards, with you walking beside me. It was only the two of us, crossing, and I felt like smiling. It's as if I've finally found the puzzle piece I've been searching for, for a long a time, and I don't even know if this feeling is even normal.

Once we arrived at the street, I gave you a sincere smile. "Thanks for the conversation. I had fun."

"Me, too." You ruffled your hair awkwardly, as if wondering the best way to say goodbye. "I'll see you at Georgiette's... maybe."

And with that, you left, but I knew something had changed. I was still alone, but I don't feel lonely at all. And I just spared a parting glance at the golden-haired boy before I took off towards where I was supposed to go, a genuine smile on my face.


	3. Chapter 2 L E N

I've always wondered why people find joy in celebrating Valentine's Day, even though the person the holiday is named after died quite a gruesome death. It seems unfitting, I think, that it is declared the day of love. But I have never focused that much on the mindset of different people. I've tried once, and I was left feeling confused and disoriented.

People give chocolates and roses to the one they like, as if an indirect confession (and by the end of the day, many new couples already had their first kiss, sometimes, going as far as the third base). But not once in my life have I ever partaken on this silly tradition. It all seemed really ridiculous, just another way thought up by people to spice things up in their life.

The day before February 14, though, I coincidentally saw you exit the bakery, just a little bit closer to the place where we met. Having second thoughts, my steps faltered for just a second then before I noticed, I was walking towards you in long strides. "Hey!"

You glanced at me, completely halting despite the complaints of the people passing, then blushed a deep red and moved out of the way of the oncoming crowd. "Miku, right? I'm so sorry if I'm mistaken, I'm not really good with names." That was a lie and I wanted to tell you that when your sea green eyes flickered in disappointment. But my voice got stuck in my throat and I just wanted to bang my head against a wall.

"Hey," you said timidly, nodding your head and clutching the paper bag you were holding tightly. "Lennon."

It was awkward, you standing there, like you'd rather be anywhere but here. It was so, so different from last time. You were smiling and laughing, and I wondered if it was wrong of me to casually ask my friends if they know you. Maybe I did something wrong. It was all I was ever good at. Messing things up, it seems.

"What's that?" You snapped out of your daze and glanced at the bag in your hands, a bright smile alighting your face.

Your face became eager, and I wanted to sigh in relief. It's still there. Your smile hadn't changed and I was glad, even if there is a possibility that what you bought are chocolates for your boyfriend or crush, but I continued grinning. Because you were happy, and I didn't even know you and I'm not supposed to be so envious. It was an endless cycle, and I kept chanting the words in my head.

don't frown don't frown don't frown

"Oh, this? It'a chocolate cake, and since tomorrow's Valentine's Day, I was thinking of giving it to the grandma who live next door to my house. When I was little, she had always taken care of me and I wanted to return the favor somehow. I gave her a handmade sweater last year and I wanted to give her something different and she do have a sweet tooth, so..." You trailed off.

I saw the genuine love in your eyes. Not the let's-date-then-we'll-dump-after-a-day kind, you sincerely wanted to show this old lady your gratitude and I understood that. That's probably why I took it out of my bag, they were for another person but it just felt right. And I was glad I did. You gaped, but you have a pleased surprise in your eyes, and I couldn't be any more confident with a decision I made more than this.

"Here," I handed you the wrapped chocolate, "this is for you. I'm sorry if they're a bit melted, I just bought it this morning."

Uncertainly, you took it, glancing at me for assurance. "Are you sure? But I don't have something to give you in return." You looked as if you were thinking of giving it back to me, so I immediately placed my hands on my pocket.

"It's okay!" I took a step back, waving. "See you again, Miku!" Then, I was running. I did not hear your reply, but I couldn't erase the smile on my lips. Everything in my life seems to be going right, and I can't help but mentally thank the brown-haired girl with eyes like the sea.

Whistling, I looked forward. I'll probably buy Renee's chocolate later.


	4. Chapter 3 M I K U

When we saw each other for the 4th time, I suspected. But it seemed silly, just another thing I had blown out of proportion. Nothing worth being talked about. After our fifth meeting, I was entirely sure. This was not something my mind had imagined, and it was too scary to be a coincidence, either.

Maybe it was inevitable.

The day before Halloween, the orphanage I had been working at after I was fired from Georgiette's (simply because I threw a drink at someone who tried to molest a girl) was preparing for our holiday special. Carved pumpkins, cobwebs, bloody spiders, the works.

The other volunteer, Nerille, was quite excited and kept muttering about some hottie visiting the children every October 30 to help with the decorations and after that, he was never seen again, until another year passes. Sister Joanne never divulged his identity, only smiling when persistently asked by Nerille.

I admit that he do intrigue me. After all, I have never seen him before and the idea of a handsome man visiting to help bring joy to the children always brings a smile to my face.

"When do you think he'll appear?" I asked, just because Nerille seems to be eager to tell me all the juicy details, even though I have no interest in knowing.

Like a volcano about to erupt, her cheeks turned red, and I can almost imagine steam pouring out of her ears, not the angry kind, the embarrassed one. "One, he has short golden blonde hair and some of it are tied into a little ponytail on the back."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Don't worry, he's not a delinquent or anything. If he is, I doubt JoJo would have let him see the kids. Two, he has those blue eyes that look like the sky on a stormy day. " I didn't really get why she described it like that. What, did he have rain clouds on his eyes or something? For me, blue is blue, green is green and that's that. No need to complicate things.

"And, he is a little bit taller than me," she looked at me, tilting her head, "yup, you're the same height."

"Oh?" I said, already disinterested with the conversation. Situated on top of a pile of chairs, I was having trouble putting up the welcome banner. I grunted and stood on my tiptoes, pushing my hands just a little bit higher. To my horror, my make-shift ladder began to wobble. Somewhere to my right, I heard Nerille scream, but in that moment, my mind seemed to have blanked out and I can only watch in stunned silence as the ground come closer.

But instead of feeling the cold, hard floor, I felt warm and then I registered the arms holding me. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" I immediately tumbled put of rescuer's embrace, blushing madly. Looking up from my sudden fascination with the tiled floors (I didn't notice how beautiful the cerulean color actually is), I was about to apologize when a familiar face landed on my sights.

Your's.

"L-Lennon?" I was too shocked to even act less undignified in front of you and at least say my thanks. You must have thought I was too clumsy and ungrateful, but that was far from my mind right now. "What are you doing here?"

Your stormy blue eyes twinkled in amusement and you raised your hand as if in greeting, "Yo, Miku!"

Nerille coughed, reminding us of her presence. She stepped forward, hands on her hips. "You two know each other?" When I nodded, she rushed by my side, pulling me out of the room, ignoring my indignant yelp. "Why didn't you tell me? Here I was, describing him to you and obviously implying that I want to know who he actually is. How come you didn't say that you two know each other?"

My eyebrows furrowed, no sure what she was talking about and then, as if a lightning of enlightenment had flashed through me, I nodded understandingly, though still a little disoriented with the new information. "I didn't have any idea it was him you were talking about. We just met each other by coincidence, talked a little and that's that. To be honest, all I know is that his name is Lennon, nothing more."

It was not as if there aren't many people with blond hair and blue eyes, so I'm sure I could be excused for not noticing earlier, or at least getting a bit suspicious. After all, I have never even see you put your hair in a ponytail. Every time I see you, it was always left in a tousled way, as if you hadn't even bothered fixing it when you woke up in the morning. "Oh, is that so?" Nerille's sharp gaze turned apologetic. "I'm sorry about that." She waved away my apologies. "How are you? You hurt?"

"Not the least bit." And it was true. Before any part of my body made contact with the floor, you had already swept me up in your arms. I had to marvel at your timing. How did you move so fast? I never even noticed the door opening.

"Get inside, I'm going to call JoJo. He would probably want to see her her again." Before I could even open my mouth in protest, she was already gone. Heaving a deep sigh, I entered the room and found you flicking through the photo albums. You looked up upon hearing the door creak close loudly.

"We really have to fix that, don't we?" I said in embarrassment as I sat across from where you are.

You shook your head,a lazy grin plastered on your face, "Don't worry about it. It's like that every time I visit, and from what I gathered, it seems to not be such a big liability."

I nodded and silence settled between us. I wonder why I still have trouble talking to you.

"Did you notice?" I asked timidly. You glanced at me, curiosity clear on your face. "It's always a day before a holiday." By your still confused face, I could tell further explanation would be needed. "Whenever we meet, it's always before an occasion, like when we first saw each other on Christmas Eve." I clarified.

Your face finally dawned in understanding, "Come to think of it, that is true. I never really noticed."

"Oh."

Once again, silence. But this time, it felt awkward. Maybe because I practically admitted to thinking so much about us and those meetings of ours. I feel desperate, interpreting something when there's not really an issue to begin with. I opened my mouth, intending to apologize, "Lennon-"

"Len," you interrupted.

It felt like our roles were reversed. Now, I'm the one who have no clue. "Huh?"

"You can call me Len."

You smiled and for the first time, I felt lucky. Lucky for meeting you. Lucky for being late during that one Christmas Eve.


	5. Chapter 4 L E N

Just a short distance from my apartment is a little coffee shop which many people tend to overlook. It was shabby and just by the exterior, you could tell that it was slowly falling to pieces, literally. But every morning, just before going to work, I have never failed to at least get a cup of coffee, which almost always ends up being to-go.

But to be honest, the only reason I even realized that this place existed was because the owner was kind enough to let me stay during one rainy night until the storm subsides. During my visit here, the only customers who I had noticed kept coming were the old man living across the street, the middle-aged ladies who liked gossiping about the owner's cheating wife and the young student of about 15 years old who seems to be studying for a test every time I catch her sitting by the windows. There are those rare moments where others who are not patrons enter the shop, but they never come back.

Which is why I was surprised when you entered the shop, looking disheveled in what I assume was your uniform for your new job. The last time I saw you, you told me you were fired for doing what you believe was right, and somehow, I admire that. Maybe because I, myself, don't have that kind of courage.

Without realizing, I was already waving my hand and of course, you noticed. Your face brightened and you immediately made a beeline to the empty seat next to mine.

As you grow closer, I can't help the rush of butterflies in my stomach. Only now did I notice how your hair slightly curls at the end and how your twin tailed-hair, childish as it may be, looks good on you. Over the span of the times we saw each other, I began to take note of some things that enables me to understand you more: how you bite your lips and avoid eye contact when you feel nervous, how not being able to blink frustrates the heck out of you and how you dearly love the grandma you previously mentioned.

More than anything, it made me feel like we are close.

Maybe we are, but I don't like hoping.

Your sea green eyes flashing, you flashed a quick smile my way and flopped your purse on the table, "Hey, Len." My heart skipped a bit. Giving the mug on my hand a look, you commented, "I didn't take you for a coffee person."

"Yeah, people tell me that a lot." Mostly Renee. "Coffee before work?"

"I woke up a little too early and found this place by coincidence."

 _Coincidence_. I wonder if that was what brings us together, always, _always_ , at the day before an iconic holiday celebrated by the whole world. I like to believe it's fate, or destiny, but my instincts have proven to be wrong countless times and I just stopped listening to it.

This _thing_ , whatever it is, between us is a huge gamble on my part.

Believe or not?

It was something new and I knew I was treading on dangerous waters, but just for this moment, I wanted to be brave and cross the other side of the ocean. If only for this one time, I wanted... no, needed for things to work out. I had never wished so fervently for something before.

"How's your new job?" I asked when you finished ordering. You tapped your hands on the cold plastic table, another thing I noticed you do every time you're in deep thought.

"It was okay, a little tough, sure but everybody is so nice!" You beamed, "I don't think there will be anymore complications this time. I mean, so far, the customers are just so kind and the manager even offered to make her son who is a genius in baking, by the way, to help me increase my skill in creating sweets!" I don't know why, but a sigh of relief escaped my lips.

You were doing fine and I hope, just a little, that maybe, things will go fine with my life, too.

As I gaze at you babbling cheerfully about a customer who once tried to buy all of your ice cream but was taken out of the store by the ear by a short-haired brunette, I marveled at the changes I noticed at the span of our five meetings, six, if you count today. Back then, I can still distinctly remember the sadness, the _boredom_ , the _desire to live freely_ , to _reset_. You looked ready to cry. I perceived you as someone who had grown tired of this crappy game we call life. It has no limits, no way of knowing the goals, the parameters.

There are no cheat code.

I suppose I shouldn't talk. I was more or less the same as you, maybe even worse. I smoked, I wanted to _rebel_ and that was what I did. But that was a long time ago, I'm different. I hope I'm different today. My past, however disgusting it may be is is still part of who I am, one of the pieces that makes me my own person, and I had no choice but to accept it. That was the only thing I can do.

And it looks like change is starting within you, too. Your cheeks are flushed with the evidence of life and youthful bliss. You, at first seemed to be too conscious of speaking to other people, as if one wrong move will condemn you to an eternity of anguish, but right now, it is almost too impossible to believe that the glassy-eyed girl I met on the Christmas eve is the same optimistic person I am currently sitting across with. It added with your whole aura and somewhere in the back of my mind, I entertained the thought. It is _foolish_ , it is _wishful thinking_ , it is _stupidity speaking_. But still I wonder.

 _Is this change partly because of me?_


End file.
